'To the people trolling me online: why?'

A question: why? I mean, really, why? What is it that drives you to fire up your computer, hop online and carefully tippy-type out lengthy messages of abuse?

I ask quite genuinely, because I am quite genuinely confused. Does it make you feel good to write the things you do?

Do you log off feeling satisfied, satiated, like you’ve done a mighty fine day’s work?

When I wrote about how I used to be a rich wife and now shop at Aldi, you called me—and, I quote—"a modern-day slut." An interesting take on doing the groceries, I have to say.

One woman who I do not know from a bar of soap demanded I fess up to having a "cashed-up boyfriend." Um... I don’t, although why that would affect my weekly grocery store shop is anyone’s guess.

"Does it make you feel good to write the things you do?" (Instagram)

I was called selfish. Stupid. An idiot. All because I wrote about how, in hindsight, I should have paid more attention to how I spent my money because, as it turns out, I wasn’t going to have it forever.

I can’t answer that; only you can. But here’s a quick sample of the comments that story garnered.

One woman declared I would have "a breakdown" if I only knew how I "really looked" (presumably not so great!) and that I needed to lay off the Botox and the fillers. Which is interesting, because I currently have neither. Have I done so in the past? Sure. Will I do so again? Also, sure. But right now, not a drop.

Another woman took the time to hunt down my personal Instagram account to let me know I was the reason nobody wanted to give compliments any more. Clearly, I am more powerful than I thought.

There was name calling—brutal, misogynistic name-calling—from the men. One charming fellow was so incensed by my declaring ‘good for your age’ is not a compliment, he showed up several days in a row.

Another, who I swear was no older than 12, simply told me I did not look good for my age. And I wonder: did he smile to himself then? Feel like he’d achieved something with his day?

"What is it that drives you to fire up your computer, hop online and type out messages of abuse?" (iStock)

I felt the same way when the woman I do not know and have never crossed paths with accused me of "caring more about my hair than my children." It struck me not so much as hurtful but truly unhinged.

That, trolls, is how you appear: not clever, not witty, not 'fighting the man', but just a teeny bit crazy and deeply unhappy with your own lives. So much so that you need to tear someone else’s down.

It’s a bit like mean girls at school—only considerably more sad, because you’re adults.

So, like I say, I am baffled. People have opinions. We share them. We don’t all agree. And I am curious why that makes a certain type so insane with rage they need to reach out to you and let you know.

Sure, they’re random strangers who are well aware that they’re safe, hidden over there behind the great wall of the internet.

Kelly Baker has some suggestions for anyone with the urge to troll. (Instagram)